


Silk Shirts and Video Games

by RadiantSeraphina (Lady_Arrowwood)



Category: Kirby (Video Games), Kirby - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Retail, M/M, Shopping Malls
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2018-07-13
Packaged: 2019-02-24 10:06:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13211487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Arrowwood/pseuds/RadiantSeraphina
Summary: Dedede works in a small, independently owned game shop. Meta Knight works at an upscale suit shop. One day, Dedede agrees to trade access to his microwave for access to the suit shop's bathroom. A simple alliance shouldn't result in run-ins with frightening, destroy-your-life senators, a prank war with a new jewelry store, or fights with mall management, yet somehow, it does.





	1. Hit the Climax

**Author's Note:**

  * For [londoncorgis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/londoncorgis/gifts).



> Inspired by @orarewedancy's post on Tumblr:
> 
> "So I work at a video game store in a mall and across the hall from us is this really nice suit shop. One day one of the guys came in an asked if they could use our microwave (the store they used to go to closed down) and we bargined for use of their bathroom in return since the mall bathrooms are like a 5 min trek.
> 
> So for like three months now we just have these men in really nice suits come in and talk while using our microwave and teach them about nerdy shit? Then I, the goblin king in various shitty tee shirts and paint stained pants, walk into their super expensive store and just get greeted with “Yo dude what’s good?” and talk about the pains of steaming silken dress shirts properly and it’s my favorite business interaction every day"

The door buzzed, indicating a customer. Dedede gazed woefully at the _Yu-Gi-Oh!_ cards scattered over the floor behind the counter. They'd been the sad casualties of an army of vicious elementary school-aged children who'd stormed Dedede's store and turned over a giant, carefully sorted box of trading cards. Dedede had went to retrieve a customer's special order from the back, and he'd returned to that horrifying nightmare. After hours of painstakingly dividing each card by type, rarity, and series, Dedede had nearly sorted them all. He was going to kill this customer if they needed _Yu-Gi-Oh!_ cards and made him undo all his hard work. Dedede climbed to his feet and painted a bright smile on his face. “Yo, welcome to—” Dedede cut off abruptly.

 

This was fortunate, for Dedede’s next words would’ve been _holy crap._

 

His customers weren’t usually so attractive, and it was with some difficulty that Dedede kept his jaw from dropping. This customer’s hair was short and midnight-blue, accentuating his high cheekbones and soft face. His eyes were a gold color, made all the more brilliant by his warm, brown skin. He also wore a navy-blue, three-piece suit. Dedede didn’t know anything about suits, but he _did_ know a sharp-looking man when he saw one. Not that he saw many. Well-suited men rarely visited small, quirky, independently-owned game shops. The plastic bag looped over the man’s arm seemed out of place. Dedede would’ve expected a briefcase. Or maybe one of those patent, leather shoulder-bags. Something very, _very_ posh.

 

“Hello,” the man said. “I’m Meta Knight. I work at the suit store just across the way.”

 

The store Dedede always avoided.

 

“How d'you manage to get away with blue hair in a store like that?” Dedede asked.

 

Meta Knight raised a finely arched eyebrow. “By exploiting a glaring loophole in the employee handbook and outselling all my coworkers.”

 

Dedede scuffed his shoe against the carpet. He felt suddenly conscious of his ripped denim and t-shirt, declaring that they needed to _Hit_ _the Climax_. Delilah—Dedede’s mom and the store owner—had bulk-ordered Pokémon shirts from an independent designer on Etsy, but rather than receiving size-runs featuring Pikachu and friends, his mom had gotten a couple hundred shirts bearing Bayonetta winking sultrily with her guns ready. The seller had apologized and delivered the promised Pikachu shirts, and to _really_ prove how apologetic he was, he’d even let Delilah keep the Bayonetta shirts.

 

Unfortunately, Bayonetta lacked the fanbase of Pokémon, so despite Dedede’s best efforts of advertising said t-shirts, they were moving very slowly. The announcement of Bayonetta’s arrival to the Switch had—thankfully—revitalized Bayonetta’s small following, but even that wasn't enough to move out such a vast array of shirts.

 

Dedede seriously doubted Meta Knight was a Bayonetta fan.

 

“I had hoped to use your microwave,” Meta Knight said.

 

Dedede frowned, perturbed. “My microwave?”

 

“I know you have one. I’ve smelled popcorn coming from this store.”

 

“You ain’t got a microwave in your fancy suit-store?”

 

Meta Knight heaved a long-suffering sigh. “The assistant manager insists that the smell of food coming from the microwave gives her a headache, so we aren’t allowed to have a microwave. We used to go to the skateboarding store and use their microwave, but they're closed now.”

 

Right. Dedede glanced around his store—at the video games and cosplay collectibles, the trading cards (normally) neatly stacked beneath a plethora of plushies. The mall was changing. In an effort to appear more ‘upscale,’ mall management had already renovated the entryways and instituted a curfew of six o’clock for anyone under eighteen. More pressingly, they’d developed a recent habit of pushing out stores that didn’t fit their upscale, mall image. It wasn’t a matter of _if_ mall management would decide that an independent game shop didn’t belong beside the newly contracted Versace or Coach; it was a matter of when.

 

Bitterly, Dedede thought that the suit shop would be fine. Meta Knight wasn’t in danger of losing his livelihood to some overreaching mall management. Dedede was suddenly feeling very petty.

 

“What’s in it for me?” Dedede asked.

 

Meta Knight sauntered past Dedede and paused beside a replica of the Master Sword. “In it for you?” Meta Knight asked. “Do you expect me to buy something?”

 

The sword was zip-tied in its sheath, so Dedede didn’t have to worry about an angry or careless patron stabbing someone. “Yeah! It’s a hundred-and-fifty deden,” Dedede said. “If you wanna use my microwave, pay up.”

 

“You expect me to pay a hundred-fifty deden for the privilege of using your microwave,” Meta Knight said, deadpan.

 

“The amount goes up fifty deden every time you make some smart-ass retort, pretty-boy,” Dedede replied. “A few more comments like that, and I’m throwing in a Switch.”

 

“I am a man of class and breeding, and I am _not_ pretty,” Meta Knight said. “Is this your backroom?”

 

Meta Knight nodded to the door marked ‘employees only.’

 

“Yeah, and you ain’t an employee,” Dedede said, crossing his arms.

 

“What’re you going to do if I just walk in?” Meta Knight asked. “Call mall security?”

 

Without waiting for an answer, Meta Knight waltzed right in. Dedede gawked and hurried after him. “Hey! You cain’t be back here!” Dedede exclaimed.

 

Meta Knight delicately walked his way around a row of overflowing, knee-high boxes. “Nova, your space for inventory is atrocious,” Meta Knight said. “It’s so tiny!”

 

“Didn’t you hear me?” Dedede asked.

 

“How could I not hear you?” Meta Knight asked. “You’re very loud.”

 

“You ain’t allowed back here!”

 

Meta Knight pulled a Tupperware container of pasta from the plastic bag and popped it into the microwave. The man, then, had the nerve to raise an eyebrow and look as if _Dedede_ was being unreasonable by insisting that strange, attractive men not just waltz into his backroom.

 

“Are you always this charming?” Dedede asked.

 

“You don’t have a bathroom back here,” Meta Knight said.

 

No, he didn’t, and because the game shop operated with just Dedede and his mom, it meant that anytime anyone had to use the bathroom, they had to tack up a _Be back in 15 minutes_ sign, close the store, and make the fifteen-minute trek to and from the food court. Sometimes, it was longer depending on how crowded the mall was. And more than once, Dedede had been mistaken for a Hot Topic employee. He’d even had a new manager grab his arm and scold him for going on break without permission, all while dragging Dedede into their store.

 

That manager was fired a few weeks later. A month later, Hot Topic had been deemed too unprofessional, or—in the mall management’s terms—“unfitting of the new, upscale image of the mall.” The silver lining was that many of Hot Topic’s customers had drifted into the game shop and declared it the New Hot Topic.

 

“Why? Were you hoping to mooch off my bathroom, too?” Dedede asked.

 

“No. I was going to suggest a mutually beneficial relationship. Perhaps, we could do a trade,” Meta Knight said. “You let my coworkers and me use your microwave, and you and your coworkers may use our bathroom.”

 

Oh, _that_ was tempting. Brusquely, Dedede held out his hand. “You got a deal, Meta Knight!”

 

Meta Knight shook Dedede’s hand, breaking contact quickly when the microwave alarm went off. The creamy smell of alfredo wafted into the air, quickly filling the space of the backroom.

 

“D’you wanna eat in the store?” Dedede asked. “You could sit behind the counter. We got a chair.”

 

Meta Knight had already headed towards the storefront. He paused and looked over his shoulder, considering Dedede for a few seconds. “I think I’ll take you up on that,” Meta Knight replied.

 

However, once they left the backroom, Meta Knight ignored the chair and perched on the counter instead. He looked far more elegant than any man sitting on a counter and eating nuked pasta had any right to look. Dedede made a point of dragging over the chair and placing it in front of Meta Knight. In response to Meta Knight’s smirk, Dedede took the chair himself.

 

“Are you this rude to your customers?” Dedede asked.

 

“Clients,” Meta Knight replied. “And no, I’m sufficiently respectful when it comes to the men and women paying my paycheck.”

 

Dedede wondered if it’d be worth his time to act like he needed a suit just to mess with Meta Knight.

 

“Well, I’m letting you use my microwave.”

 

Meta Knight held up a finger and finished chewing his bite of pasta. “You’re getting access to our bathroom,” Meta Knight replied. “Therefore, we are allies. That means you receive passable courtesy and smart retorts. If you can’t keep up, that’s on you.”

 

Dedede tried to puzzle out whether or not Meta Knight was teasing, but it was difficult to say. Meta Knight’s tone and expression remained unreadable.

 

“Fine. Smart retorts put you on my level. I’ll beat you with experience,” Dedede replied. “Sorry, Mety Knighty.”

 

“I don’t lose easily,” Meta Knight replied, “Especially if it’s a game of wits.”

 

“I’m sure,” Dedede said, “But you cain’t win ‘em all! And I’ll have you know that years of playing video games have taught me all I need to know about making quick decisions!”

 

“That makes no sense,” Meta Knight replied.

 

“Sure, it does! It’s taught me strategy!”

 

“These?” Meta Knight asked, tilting his head in bemusement. “Hmm.”

 

“You don’t believe me?” Dedede inquired, itching for a challenge.

 

“No, I don’t contest that games might teach you strategy. I play chess.”

 

Of course, he did. He looked like the sort of man who had a solid gold, diamond-encrusted chess set. Not because he needed one, of course, but because he could afford to buy one.

 

“I’ve played a game or two,” Dedede said.

 

“Have you?”

 

Before Dedede could answer, Meta Knight’s cellphone went off. Meta Knight set aside his pasta and pulled his phone from his suit pocket.

 

After looking at the screen, Meta Knight sighed. “I must take this. Thank you for your microwave. I’ll see you around.”

 

Meta Knight grabbed his pasta and hastened from the store. “Hello, could you give me just a moment?”

 

Dedede may have been a bit crestfallen that Meta Knight hadn’t been able to stay longer, but at least, Dedede had gained his store reasonable access to a bathroom. That meant he’d surely see Meta Knight again. Meta Knight, who was very elegant and lovely and also sort of an ass.

 

And Dedede had every intention of messing with Meta Knight. Just a little bit.

 

* * *

 

 

Dedede felt as though he’d stepped into an alternate dimension. The mannequins in this store wore clothing with four and five-digit price tags. Dedede was suddenly terrified that the mannequins might burst into flames if he looked at them too hard. His mom would kill him if he ruined anything in this store.

 

A tall, slender woman greeted him. Her skin was as dark as a starless night and spackled with spots of beige-gold across her nose and cheeks. She looked as if someone had spattered her with paint and left constellations in her wake. Her brilliant eyes were the radiant brown of autumn leaves and embellished with gold eyeshadow. She wore a black suit, pinstriped with gold that accentuated a very lovely, curvaceous figure. Never before had Dedede seen a woman who would look so at home on a fashion runway. “You must be Meta Knight’s new friend,” she said. “I am Galaxia, his roommate. It’s very nice to meet you.”

 

Was everyone in this store just supernaturally gorgeous?

 

“Uh, yeah. Dedede. I was coming to use the bathroom,” he said.

 

Galaxia nodded and beckoned for him to follow. They wove around suits, folded sweaters, and shining, silken dress shirts. None of the articles of clothing burst into flames at Dedede's glances, and yet he couldn't help but feel like a small child in a store full of priceless and breakable antiques. 

 

“So is Meta in today?” Dedede asked.

 

“No,” Galaxia answered, a mischievous smile creeping onto her face. “Speaking of Meta Knight, he didn’t know what a Switch was.”

 

“Oh.”

 

“He thought you were threatening to switch him,” Galaxia replied, making a switching motion with her hand.

 

Dedede snorted and burst into laughter, quietening suddenly when he realized how silent the posh store was.

 

“No wonder he didn’t wanna stay around and talk!” Dedede said, hopefully at a normal, acceptable volume. “Dear Nova!”

 

“He’s a bit out of touch with things like that,” Galaxia said. “He was delighted when he figured out what you meant.”

 

They passed behind the counter, and Galaxia waved Dedede to the bathrooms behind it.

 

“Thanks,” Dedede said.

 

The men’s bathroom was as upscale as the rest of the store, and it smelled very nice. It was much better than the food court bathrooms, at any rate. Even though Dedede wasn’t entirely sure what to do with the strange, oily salt concoction sitting beside the sink. He dumped it in his hands and washed it off, which admittedly left his hands feeling nice.

 

Nova, though. Even their _soap_ had to be strange and expensive?

 

When he stepped out, Galaxia stood with her arms crossed behind the counter. She tapped a black, polished heel on the floor, clearly annoyed. Dedede winced when he spotted the garment on the counter. While he didn’t know much about haute couture, that shirt had clearly been very abused. Its hem was fraying, there was a noticeable white spot in the midst of the grey-blue color, and it had enough wrinkles to have been sitting in someone’s floor for a week. As if to add insult to injury, an identical pile of equally wrinkled and frayed shirts had taken up residence further down the counter.

 

Dedede whistled. “Damn,” he said.

 

“Ugh, I know,” Galaxia replied. “The customer _said_ he only washed them once, and they ‘just fell apart.’ What did he do? Run them through the sanitize cycle? Maximum heat in the dryer? It looks like he got bleach on them, too.”

“Did you have to return them?”

 

Galaxia shook her head. “Not yet. He’s on the phone outside with the district manager.”

 

One of the many benefits of a family-owned shop. Dedede never had to deal with a district manager—only his mom.

 

“I’m sure he’s a real charming guy,” Dedede said sarcastically.

 

“The manager or our client?” Galaxia asked. “I don’t really mind the district manager. I’m not far enough up in the pecking order for him to pay attention to…yet.”

 

“Yet?”

 

Galaxia smiled. “I’m in the running to be a store manager,” she said.

 

“Congrats,” Dedede said, “So, um, that must mean a lotta sales.”

 

“Yes.”

 

Galaxia straightened as a dark-haired man stormed in. Until the man approached the counter, Dedede hadn’t realized _just_ how tall Galaxia was. She was at least six feet tall, if not a few inches more, and every inch of her exuded elegance and confidence.

 

As he angrily gathered his shirts, the man didn’t even seem to notice Dedede. “Listen here, little girl! You’ll be sorry,” the man said. “I will never shop in this store again!”

 

Galaxia smiled brightly. “I’m glad to hear it, Sir.”

 

“You have _no_ idea who I am. I know Senator Nocturne. I have connections! You’ll never work here again!”

 

Galaxia laughed. “Really? I know Senator Nocturne, too. Actually, he’s a frequent client. Very charming and generous, as I’m sure you know. He gives the most wonderful birthday presents,” Galaxia said, holding out her arm and showing off a blue and white diamond tennis bracelet. “Don’t you agree?”

 

Evidently, the man didn’t, for he swore and stormed away, struggling not to drop his massive pile of shirts.

 

“ _Wow_ ,” Dedede said, once the man was out of earshot.

 

“I know, right? I’m just happy I didn’t have to return those. It would’ve killed our numbers for the day,” Galaxia replied.

 

“So d’you really know Senator Nocturne?” Dedede asked. “Or were you just bluffing to get rid of that jerk?”

 

Dedede couldn’t quite name the look Galaxia gave him. “The senator and I know one another, yes,” Galaxia replied. “He spent twenty-thousand dollars here his last visit.”

 

 _Holy Nova._ Dedede glanced again at her tennis bracelet. He wondered _just_ how intimately Senator Nocturne knew Galaxia if he bought her jewelry like that.

 

“When Senator Nocturne comes in, we treat him like royalty,” Galaxia added. “We open the champagne and everything.”

 

“Champagne? Really?”

 

Galaxia nodded. “We keep a small selection of wines for our very best clients,” she said, “So if you ever have a rough day…”

 

Dedede snorted. “Thanks,” he said. “I’ll keep it in mind. I gotta get back to work, though.”

 

“Sure,” Galaxia said. “It was nice to meet you.”

 

As Dedede walked out, he saw the ruined shirts thrown haphazardly in a trashcan. It must be nice to have that much money—both to buy that many shirts and to throw them away like that. Dedede would’ve taken them home and tried to repair them with his half-cobbled memories from home economics. Sure, the game shop earned Dedede and his mother a modest income. The bills were always paid and on time, and if something terrible happened—a car accident or unnecessary medical expenses—it wasn’t the end of the world. Overall, things were manageable, but _this_ level of luxury had never been in the cards.

 

When Dedede returned to the store, a letter from mall management waited. The shop’s death warrant had arrived and was set for the end of the year. They had two months.

 


	2. Triangle-Bird Sigil

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Horchata (in Mexico, anyway) is a creamy, rice-based drink that includes vanilla and cinnamon. It's made slightly differently amongst Latin American countries and in Spain. In the US, you can buy it at restaurants and some grocery stores.

Senator Nightmare Nocturne swept into the tuxedo shop like he owned it. He was a tall, slender man with sharp-boned features, a shock of thick hair (dyed black to hide the five or six white hairs that kept appearing), and the same winter-grey eyes as Meta Knight, the older of his two children. Nightmare wasn’t really an attractive man, but he was always a sharply dressed man. That’s not to say that he was necessarily unattractive either. He was just _odd_ -looking, as if he’d stepped from the pages of a children’s book. He looked like he could play the part of an evil sorcerer and play that part well. Being a famous political figure and from the region of the kingdom that was associated with fairy tales and Dark Matter, political cartoon artists often had great fun at his expense. 

 

Meta Knight greeted him with a glass of merlot.

 

“Ah, thank you,” Nightmare said, taking the wine in his hand and swirling it in the glass.

 

“The pleasure is mine, Father.”

 

“Hmm. Kirby sends his greetings. He wanted to come with me, but he’s so overwhelmed with high school right now. The poor little mouse, I might have to twist a couple of arms to get him through biology,” Nightmare said.

 

“ _Father_.”

 

Nightmare smirked. “It’s just a joke, dearest. You know I prefer bribery as my method of persuasion.”

 

Meta Knight smiled despite himself. “Still, Father. How is Mother?”

 

"She's still in White Wafers hosting her Halcandran Women's Convention," Nightmare said. "I've been keeping a careful eye on the press regarding it."

 

While Nightmare was willing to ignore the bulk of  _his_ critics, Nova help anyone who dared attack his wife or children. Nightmare's love life was complicated. By the time he was twenty-three, he'd had two children born by two different women. To the man's credit, he'd been a good father. He'd carefully arranged his work at Nightmare Enterprises and later his political life around spending time with and supporting his two children. Once Kirby was a teenager, he'd moved in with Nightmare. Because they were all living together, Meta Knight and Kirby had grown a lot closer as siblings, and the odd thing was that Nightmare and Meta Knight's mother had, too. They'd been married very recently, but not everyone had liked the idea of Nightmare, whose veins carried blood from the once-royal family, marrying a Halcandran woman.

 

Nightmare twirled a long, thin finger. “Turn around for me. There’s a good boy.”

 

Meta Knight obediently spun around. From experience, Meta Knight knew his father was looking over his suit. It was new. Midnight blue with black damask patterns and a modern fit. It was interesting without being _interesting._ But not the same boring, black suit that every other man in Dreamland wore. And Meta Knight _might_ have worn it just hoping his fashion-forward father would notice.

 

“Hmm. Is that new?” Nightmare asked.

 

“Yes, Father.”

 

Nightmare tipped Meta Knight’s chin up with a long, slender finger. “A modern fit suits you. You look like a very handsome young man, kleine Fledermaus.”

 

Meta Knight brightened at his father’s praise, and Nightmare let his hand drop back to his side.

 

“So tell me,” Nightmare said, switching from Dreamlandic to Traumwaldian, “What are the ‘in’ colors going to be next?”

 

“Ice blue, silver, and violet, Father,” Meta Knight said, “With—of course—splashes of red and green for the holidays.”

 

Nightmare sighed. “Unfortunately, some of us aren’t pigmentally gifted enough to wear red,” the senator said, his grey eyes gazing longingly at a blood-red dress shirt. “I look like a corpse when I wear it.”

 

Nightmare was uncommonly pale with a nearly grey tinge to his skin, and if he wore anything red, it served only to make the man’s veins more apparent. It wasn’t his best color by any stretch.

 

“But you look very handsome in nearly everything else,” Meta Knight offered.

 

“So _complimentary_ ,” Nightmare teased. “There’s no need to butter me up, pet. I’ll make sure you and Galaxia make sales. How are your finances?”

 

Meta Knight hesitated. They weren’t fantastic. Living on his own had been far more difficult than he’d foreseen, and the suit shop didn’t pay well. Even if he met his numbers, he wouldn’t receive anything; he just wouldn’t get chewed out. Numbers only mattered for people like Galaxia, who were looking to advance to higher positions, and because Meta Knight was still in school, management had made it quite clear that he wouldn’t be moving up the corporate ladder anytime soon.

 

But Meta Knight really hated asking his father for money. It didn’t matter that his father was a senator and—before he’d been elected and had to freeze or sell his assets—the wealthy CEO and founder of Nightmare Enterprises. It was the fact that Meta Knight had determined he was going to make it on his own. He was going to prove himself.

 

Meta Knight loved his father, but he sometimes hated being Nightmare’s son. Any time he splurged on a purchase? It was because his father was wealthy. Any time he won a scholarship or contest? It was probably because he was Nightmare’s child. It was never-ending.

 

But Nightmare had caught the pause and wordlessly reached into his wallet.

 

“Father, please—”

 

“Mety Knighty!” Dedede’s voice rang through the quiet shop like fireworks on an otherwise silent night.

 

Meta Knight thought he might actually die on the spot. He glanced at Nightmare, who looked utterly baffled for a second before he managed to regain his cool composure. And there was Dedede, wearing distressed denim, duct-taped shoes, and a shirt with some sort of…probably video game related triangle-bird sigil. At least, it wasn’t that _other_ shirt. The one talking about climaxes.

 

“Hello, Dedede,” Meta Knight said.

 

Dedede stopped abruptly. His jaw dropped, and for a second, Meta Knight thought Dedede’s eyes might actually pop out of his head.

 

“Senator Nocturne,” Nightmare replied, offering a hand.

 

Dedede took Nightmare’s handshake far too eagerly, and although Nightmare smiled politely, once his hand was free, he discreetly rubbed it against his pants.  Dedede’s palms must’ve been sweating.

 

“What brings ya into town?” Dedede asked. “Besides, buyin’ suits, obviously!”

Meta Knight cleared his throat. “We—”

 

“My elder child is something of a wayward creature,” Nightmare replied. “Nevertheless, I’m quite fond of him, so I’ve come to see my dearest Meta Knight.”

 

Meta Knight hadn’t thought Dedede’s eyes could grow any wider. “ _Him_?” Dedede asked, pointing an accusing finger at Meta Knight.

 

“Yes. Can’t you see the resemblance?” Nightmare asked. “He has my eyes.”

 

That was really the _only_ hint they might be related. Meta Knight took after his mother far more than he did his father.

 

“Be careful in the bathroom,” Meta Knight said. “We just cleaned the floors, so they might be wet.”

 

For a few seconds, Meta Knight wasn’t sure Dedede heard the statement. Dedede was just…staring at Nightmare.

 

“He regularly visits to use your restroom?” Nightmare asked.

 

“His store doesn’t have one, Father.”

 

“But not today! I just need change,” Dedede said in a rush. “Some guy came an’ bought three deden worth of stuff with a hundred deden bill an’ killed my till. Thought y’all are prolly used to dealin’ with big bills? Can ya get me some tens? Fives?”

 

“I can,” Meta Knight said. “I’m sure we have it.”

 

“Thanks, Mety Knighty!”

 

Meta Knight gave his father a sort of apologetic smile before walking Dedede to the register. Nightmare followed, sipping on his wine.

 

“So whatcha doin’ over the weekend?” Dedede asked.

 

“Studying,” Meta Knight replied. “You?”

 

“Well, I’m still tryin’ to come up with plans,” Dedede said. “I’m off, and I knew Galaxia mentioned you were off. I thought you might wanna do something.”

 

“I would like to,” Meta Knight replied, “But I don’t know. It just depends on my mood.”

 

“Right. Gotcha.”

 

Once they reached the register, Meta Knight swapped Dedede’s bill out and handed him the money. “So, uh…nice suit,” Dedede said.

 

“Thank you.”

 

Nightmare made a sort of choking noise.

 

“So yeah, thanks for the change. I’ll see ya ‘round, Mety Knighty!”

 

“Sure.”

 

“It was…uh, nice to meet ya, Senator Nocturne! Good job on the school reform thingy!” Dedede exclaimed, before practically _running_ from the store.

 

“Who is that?” Nightmare asked, once Dedede was out of hearing range.

 

“My ally.”

 

Nightmare snorted. “Ordinary people don’t refer to others as allies, pet.”

 

Meta Knight shrugged. “We have a mutually beneficial arrangement. That’s all.”

 

“Oh,” Nightmare said. “I see.”

 

Meta Knight wasn’t entirely sure what Nightmare’s tone of voice was indicating. “At any rate, Father,” Meta Knight said, “We have some new options for lining, and I picked a few out that I think you’ll really like.”

 

The wizard’s face was thoughtful. “Of course, dearest. Let’s have a look.”

 

* * *

 

 

One of the mall managers heartlessly dropped another eviction notice on Dedede’s counter. Although Dedede and his mom still had a couple of months until the mall would kick them out, management was _very_ persistent in reminding them. They’d gotten a notice a week.

 

Dedede had been so busy with customers that he’d forgotten about the notice and so busy that, somehow, he didn’t notice Senator Nightmare Nocturne had entered the shop and swiped the paper off the counter. When Dedede _did_ notice, it was only because someone had recognized the senator and mentioned his name.

 

“Difficulty paying the rent?” Nightmare asked, once the wave of customers ended.

 

“Uh, no, Senator,” Dedede said. “Mall’s tryin’ to be more upscale, so they’re throwin’ us out.”

 

“What a pity,” Nightmare said. “I hate to see such a thing. I built my own business from the ground-up with my two hands and a lot of work. I know it’s a monumental task to run your own business.”

 

“Yeah! It is.”

 

Nightmare folded up the eviction notice with his pale, bony hands. “Let’s talk about this mutually beneficial relationship you have with my son,” Nightmare said.

 

“Oh, I borrow ‘is bathroom, and he borrows my microwave,” Dedede replied.

 

Nightmare opened his mouth like he meant to say something, but no words emerged. Dedede gulped. He’d never noticed that Senator Nocturne had razor-sharp eyeteeth. He could probably rip out a man’s throat with his bite.

 

“Because it kinda sucks walkin’ all the way to the food court to use the bathroom,” Dedede added.

 

“I see.”

 

“Yeah, I mean, it works. What did ya think was goin’ on?” Dedede asked.

 

Dedede had already figured it out, or at least, developed _some_ idea, but the thought of making Senator Nightmare Nocturne sweat was really too funny to pass up.

 

However, it seemed that Nightmare Nocturne had no shame. If anything, he seemed more poised than before. “Meta Knight is a single, attractive young man,” Nightmare said, “With a good wit, great intelligence, a wonderful sense of humor. It would be unsurprising to learn that you were _interested_ in him.”

 

“And what if I was?”

 

“If you were, I’d just have to have a small chat with you,” Nightmare said. “That’s all. I’m very protective of my children. Meta Knight has good sense and is very careful with relationships, unlike his poor, dear brother. Unfortunately, he also has a terrible impulsive streak.”

 

Nightmare was probably the reason parents were no longer allowed to attend Dreamland University’s freshmen orientation sessions. 

 

“But hypothetically,” Dedede said, grinning cheekily, “If I was gonna ask Meta out, how would I go ‘bout doin’ it? He don’t seem to realize when someone’s even flirtin’ with ‘im.”

 

Nightmare looked like he’d just swallowed something very unpleasant. The senator heaved a massive sigh. “You would first have to pass my background checks,” he said. “I won’t have my son dating some vagabond.”

 

“Your twenty-year-old son.”

 

“Twenty-one. And yes, some of us have prestigious political careers and reputations to maintain,” Nightmare replied. “This would be no surprise to Meta Knight.”

 

“Did Galaxia have to have background checks?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Well, I ain’t gotta worry ‘cause my background check’d come back fine. What else?”

 

Nightmare appeared for a moment to be lost for words.

 

“Because he really _is_ kinda hot, y’know. I like well-dressed men,” Dedede said.

 

“I wasn’t _encouraging_ you,” Nightmare said. “For Nova’s sake.”

 

“Don’t matter,” Dedede said. “How do I win ‘im over? I mean, I don’ think Meta’d recognize flirtin’ if it smacked him in the face.”

 

“I’m not going to tell you how to…flirt with my child.”

 

“Would Galaxia, though?” Dedede asked.

 

Dedede wouldn’t have thought it was possible for the senator’s complexion to grow any paler, but it did. Evidently, Galaxia absolutely _would_ tell Dedede the way to Meta Knight’s heart.

 

“He likes horchata,” Nightmare said finally and quickly.

 

Dedede had never heard of that in his life, but it sounded fancy. It was probably some sort of wine.

 

“Great!”

 

“But if you break his heart, I _will_ eviscerate you,” Nightmare said, “And I promise that law enforcement will not find the body.”

 

Evidently, Senator Nightmare Nocturne was an aspiring serial killer. Good to know.

 

With that, the senator left. Bemused, Dedede stared after him for a long moment. Truthfully, he hadn’t really _considered_ dating Meta Knight, but maybe…

 

Well, it couldn’t be _that_ hard to find horchata. Dedede just hoped it wouldn’t be that expensive.

 

 


	3. Horchata Wine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A special shout out to @sexslinger who gave us this very lovely depiction of Meta Knight and Galaxia [here](http://radiantseraphina.tumblr.com/post/173864983267/after-reading-silk-shirts-and-video-games-i-was) and who also inspired the necklace Galaxia wears in this chapter. As well as @skyacya who also drew an absolutely gorgeous Galaxia both from this fic and also from her depiction in the superhero au I wrote...uh, many moons ago [right here!](https://skyacya.deviantart.com/art/Galaxia-747083314)
> 
> And you should check out all the lovely art made by these wonderfully talented people! <3

With a frown, Meta Knight shook the metal grating that had been pulled down over the entrance of Dedede’s game shop. Normally, he would’ve accepted that the shop was closed at three o’clock in the evening, but that morning, Dedede had swept into the suit shop and _insisted_ Meta Knight come over at the end of his shift. Dedede had been absolutely adamant about it and even jumped up and down to _really_ drive the point home. It was possible that Meta Knight might've been a little frightened by the enthusiasm.

 

Meta Knight sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. A new jewelry store  _Haltmann's_  was moving into the vacant space beside Dedede’s game shop, and the sound of drills and hammers was beginning to make Meta Knight feel as if his brain was about to burst through his own skull. A small part of Meta Knight, the part of Meta Knight who'd grown up in the Big Forest and along the coast of the Orange Ocean, really wanted to like and support the jewelry store.  _Haltmann_ was clearly a Traumwaldian name, and Meta Knight knew that he ought to support a man (or family?) who likely shared the same home province. But  _Haltmann's_ was already sowing the seeds of disdain in Meta Knight's heart.

 

The door leading to the backroom opened, and Dedede trudged out.

 

“If you were going to invite me over, you could at least have the decency not to lock me out,” Meta Knight said.

 

Dedede rubbed a hand through his hair. “Sorry—”

 

“Who’s out there, pet?” a woman asked.

 

A woman followed Dedede from the room. She was at least six foot tall and very broad. Meta Knight was suddenly all too aware that he was a _very_ tiny man. The woman’s straight, brown hair framed a soft face with large, blue eyes. Meta Knight knew _immediately_ who this must be, and he tried to remember if Dedede had ever mentioned his mother’s name or even his own last name.

 

“Oh, finally!” Dedede’s mother exclaimed. “Mall management.”

 

“No, Mom. That’s just Meta,” Dedede said, unlocking the grating and pulling it up a few feet.

 

Meta Knight climbed underneath and into the shop while Dedede locked the grate back into place.

 

“Oh! Meta Knight! I’m Delilah Novatrix, Dedede’s mom.”

 

Delilah awkwardly wiped her hands on her dark wash jeans, which Meta Knight noticed were rolled up her calves and also appeared to be wet. Odd. But this was Dedede’s mother, and if there was one thing Meta Knight had learned from his father, it was how to be charming.

 

“How delightful,” Meta Knight said, offering his hand.

 

Once Delilah accepted, Meta Knight shook her hand very politely. Had they been in Traumwald, it would’ve been more proper to hug her, but Dreamlanders could be a bit wary of open affection. Meta Knight didn’t dare attempt to kiss her cheek, which was how Halcandrans preferred to greet one another.

 

“It is a pleasure to meet you,” Meta Knight said. “May I address you as _ma’am_?”

 

Dedede looked like he’d swallowed a whole lemon.

 

“Ain’t you a polite boy?” Delilah asked, once they’d released one another’s hands. “I guess that’s to be expected, being a senator’s kid.”

 

“My father has certainly endeavored to teach me well,” Meta Knight replied, playing up his manners as if Delilah was a client he deeply wanted to impress.

 

And in a way, she really was. Meta Knight _did_ want to make a good impression on this woman, especially since he’d been borrowing her microwave for a few weeks. And of course, he  _was_ Dedede's ally. Meta Knight didn't want Dedede to look  _bad._

 

Delilah smiled. “Dedede, did you have plans with Meta Knight? If you wanna go hang out, it’s okay. You ain't gotta spend your whole Saturday cleaning the stockroom with me. I mean, just because it's flooded ain't no reason to cancel any plans.”

 

Dedede shook his head. 

 

“Your stockroom flooded?” Meta Knight asked.

 

Delilah nodded. “That construction they’re doin’ next door for the new guys coming in? Apparently, they got a bathroom and was workin’ on it. And they flooded our stockroom! We’ve been tryin’ to rescue all our merch, and we called mall management about it. But they ain’t even come down yet. I guess ‘cause they’re kickin’ us out anyway, the figure they’ll throw us to the wolves."

 

“They’re pushing you out?” Meta Knight asked.

 

“Yeah, right after Saint Knight’s Day. Real givers, huh?” Delilah asked. “But it’s to be expected, I guess. We ain’t the upper scale kinda stuff they’re lookin’ for.”

 

No, they certainly weren’t, but that still didn’t mean they ought to be pushed out. And most of the stores that _had_ been pushed out were massive, corporate chains. Those businesses had the resources to move; their employees had other places to go. Dedede and his mother didn’t.

 

How could mall management even think of doing that? And now they were just going to ignore a flooded stockroom?

 

“I can pitch in and help,” Meta Knight offered.

 

“Oh, honey, no,” Delilah said. “You’d ruin your suit!”

 

Never in his life had anyone called Meta Knight  _honey._  “Don’t worry. Galaxia is about to come in for her shift. I’ll have her bring something for me to wear with her.”

 

“Meta, you ain’t gotta—” Dedede began.

 

Meta Knight had already pulled out his cell phone. “Don’t be absurd,” he said. “There’s no reason for me not to help.”

 

“Well, we would appreciate it,” Delilah said. “We can bribe ya with pizza an’ the bottle of wine Dedede bought ya.”

 

“Wine?” Meta Knight asked.

 

Dedede flushed. “Mom! You weren’t s’posed to tell ‘im! You, uh—like reds, right? Cabernet sauvignon?”

 

He’d pronounced it _cab-ur-net saw-vig-nawn._ So like someone who’d _read_ the name of the wine but never, ever had someone say it before. Of course, Meta Knight didn’t think much of this. He knew that not everyone came from such an affluent background, and Meta Knight’s father had always been something of a wine snob.

 

“I like reds, yes,” Meta Knight confirmed, “But why did you buy me wine?”

 

Dedede glared at his mom, who looked legitimately confused as to what any wrongdoing might have been.

 

“Well, I was gonna buy you horchata ‘cause your dad said you liked it,” Dedede said.

 

Father had spoken to Dedede, had he? Meta Knight felt something akin to fond irritation and hoped that Nightmare hadn’t been _too_ hard on Dedede. Meta Knight’s father had always had a flair for drama.

 

“But I couldn’t find it, so I figured you’d just be okay with a red. I mean, it’s the thought the counts, right?” Dedede asked.

 

Meta Knight stifled his laughter. It was pretty obvious why horchata, the milky, rice-based drink, wouldn’t be with the wine. “Yes,” Meta Knight said. “It’s the thought that counts.”

 

But why would Dedede want to buy him anything at all?

 

* * *

 

 

A mere twenty minutes later, Meta Knight met Galaxia at the suit store’s fitting room. She wore her favorite pinstripe suit and a gold necklace with a _massive_ red gemstone set in it. “ _That_ ’s new,” Meta Knight said, tapping his clavicle.

 

Galaxia smiled. “A gift from your father,” she said smugly.

 

Unlike Meta Knight, Galaxia didn’t come from money, but she’d been Meta Knight’s best friend forever. And because she was Meta Knight’s friend and a determined, intelligent woman, Nightmare had made a tradition of bringing her incredibly expensive gifts whenever he was in town. Someone needed to buy her nice things; Nightmare insisted. After all, if Galaxia was to make a career of selling or—hopefully, someday—designing expensive clothing, she needed to look like a woman who knew haute couture and expensive taste.

 

“It suits you. Garnet?” Meta Knight asked.

 

“Red diamond,” Galaxia replied.

 

Meta Knight whistled between his teeth. Among colored diamonds, the red diamonds were the most expensive, and they seldom came in any size larger than a karat. The one in Galaxia’s necklace, however, was absolutely massive. And Nightmare Nocturne didn’t buy _synthetic_.

 

“Dear Goddess,” Meta Knight said.

 

“He’d buy you nice jewelry, too, if you’d let him,” Galaxia pointed out.

 

Meta Knight shook his head and pulled his clothes from Galaxia’s massive handbag. She’d brought a dark blue ribbed undershirt and notably _not_ one of his more expensive ones, which made sense for cleaning up a mess. But she’d also brought the _tightest_ pair of jeans Meta Knight owned. Low rise, too. Comfortable but not necessarily the pair Meta Knight would’ve chosen to wear while bending over to pick up sopping wet boxes of merchandise.

 

“My others weren’t clean?” Meta Knight asked, entering a dressing room stall without waiting for an answer.

 

“They were. I brought the ones that look best on you,” Galaxia replied.

 

As Meta Knight pulled his suit off, he handed them over the stall door, where Galaxia gathered them and hung them in a garment bag.

 

“Well, I’m not really going anywhere important, Galaxia. It’s just to help Dedede,” Meta Knight said, as he pulled the jeans on.

 

“Dedede isn’t important?”

 

“Of course, he is, but it’s just _Dedede_. It’s not like I’m meeting the prime minister.”

 

Admittedly, Prime Minister Sectonia probably would've preferred he'd met her very underdressed. She'd always struck Meta Knight as the sort of woman who'd prefer everyone around her to look as unattractive as possible, thereby bolstering her own looks. It was well-known Sectonia was incurably vain, but then, even having met her, it was difficult to sort out what was truth and what was slander.

 

“But you like him," Galaxia said.

 

Meta Knight paused and opened the door to peer at Galaxia. “What are you implying?” he asked.

 

“He very clearly likes you,” Galaxia said. “Did you really not pick up on that?”

 

“Of course, I noticed. He wants to be my friend. Nova knows why.”

 

When Meta Knight missed something obvious, Galaxia would often give him a certain look. That look involved a soft smile and a crinkling of her eyes. It was a look that managed to reflect a sort of disappointed fondness, the sort of look that belonged to a middle-aged humanities professor trying to wrangle with a dozen enthusiastic and procrastinating graduate students.

 

Meta Knight sighed and pulled on his jeans. “Fine. Spell it out,” he said.

 

“How is it that Kirby, as childish and naive as he is, can figure out when someone is interested in him, but you _can’t_?”

 

“Who has a crush on Kirby? I hadn’t heard that.”

 

“Some boy named Fluff,” Galaxia said, “According to your father, Kirby has taken up crochet in the hopes of making Fluff a scarf for Saint Knight’s Day.”

 

That made sense. Patch Land was well-known for their textile industry, and crocheting was a popular pastime in the kingdom.

 

“He’s a Patchlandic royal,” Galaxia added.

 

Not that being a royal from Patch Land was really much of an accomplishment. The royal family was _massive_ , and unlike Dreamland—which had once had a sprawling monarchy with a billion different titles—Patch Land only had four: king, queen, prince, and princess. If you had royal blood and weren’t the king or queen, you were called a prince or princess. Even if you were the two-hundredth person in line for the throne. And Patch Land’s royals were really only figureheads, anyway. But did that mean Meta Knight _wasn’t_ going to tease Kirby mercilessly for earning the affections of a likely pompous royal brat?

 

Not a bit. Meta Knight _was_ Kirby’s older brother, after all, and being away at the university meant that Meta Knight had fallen _way_ behind on his brotherly teasing quota.

 

 _En garde, Kirby,_ Meta Knight thought.

 

When they met again, Kirby was in for it.

 

“ _Anyway_ ,” Galaxia said. “Nice deflection.”

 

Meta Knight shook his head. “Dedede isn’t interested in me.”

 

“How do you know?”

 

“Because we’re nothing alike. Why would he be interested in me?”

 

“I might dearly love you, but I’m not going to stroke your ego by telling you all the nice things about yourself.”

 

Meta Knight put his shirt on and nudged open the door. “But you’re my best friend. Isn’t that your job?”

 

“My job is to keep you from wanting to fight _everyone_ ,” Galaxia said. “Nova knows how you’ve lasted in retail this long with your attitude.”

 

“You make it sound like I’m dueling our customers in the parking lot. I’m perfectly polite when it suits me.”

 

“When it suits you,” Galaxia said.

 

“Like you don’t have a wild streak, too,” Meta Knight said.

 

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” Galaxia replied, pretending to look at her nails. “By the way, you need to empty out the fridge.”

 

Meta Knight heaved an obnoxious sigh. “Galaxia, I _told_ you we can’t keep putting dead bodies in the fridge. It makes my chai tea taste strange.”

 

“That’s a very minor inconvenience,” Galaxia said.

 

Meta Knight tucked his jeans into his waterproof hiking boots and stood. “The district manager is coming today, right?” he asked.

 

Rumor was, he was coming to promote someone.

 

“Yes.”

 

“He’d have to have no taste not to pick you,” Meta Knight replied. “When you get it, we’ll go out and celebrate. Father can pay.”

 

“We’ll see,” Galaxia said, walking out with him.

 

"If he doesn't pick you, we'll shove him in the fridge," Meta Knight deadpanned.

 

Galaxia laughed and squeezed his shoulder. “Have fun cleaning out a flooded stockroom, dear heart.”

 

“Yeah, although I don’t know how much of a point it…” Meta Knight trailed off. “They’re being pushed out with some of the other stores.”

 

“That’s terrible,” Galaxia said. “But you know…your father has some clout. I realize he’s not a miracle worker, but I’ve seen him do some amazing things.”

 

“I know,” Meta Knight said. “Kirby is coming down in a couple weeks for the Harvest Festival holiday. We’re all going to have dinner. I thought I’d ask Father, then. Think he’ll buy me a mall for Saint Knight’s Day?”

 

Galaxia’s lips curved into a smile. “I think he’d buy you all of Dreamland if you asked.”

 

 


	4. Charmander

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your eyes aren't deceiving you! I've upped the chapter count to accommodate Kirby's hijinks.

December brought a few changes. For one, it heralded the one-month mark until the game shop closed, and although Dedede tried to stay optimistic, things were looking grim. His mom hadn’t managed to find a new place for the shop, and worse, mall management was insisting that they weren’t responsible for the thousands of dollars of damages, and Dedede’s mom had spent weeks trying to fight them into paying. And Haltmann Jewelers had opened.

 

Dedede sent them frequent glares. Not only had they kind of—okay, not really but still—flooded the stockroom, but they had the audacity to _move in_ when Dedede and his hardworking mom were being _forced out_.

 

When Dedede walked into his favorite suit shop, Meta Knight and Galaxia stood by the entrance like a pair of absurdly attractive gargoyles. Galaxia’s arms were crossed and her eyes narrowed. Beside her, Meta Knight looked like he’d swallowed something very unpleasant. “My eyes are burning,” Meta Knight said.

 

“I _know_. Do you think he’d be offended if we sent him a few of our catalogs? Business cards, maybe?” Galaxia asked.

 

“Ugh. No,” Meta Knight said. “Then, _she_ might come back.”

 

Dedede looked over his shoulder, trying to figure out what had drawn Meta Knight and Galaxia’s apparent disdain, but he saw only Max Haltmann, the owner of Haltmann Jewelers, adjusting jewelry inside a glass case.

 

“What’s up, guys?” Dedede asked.

 

“Haltmann,” Meta Knight replied. “He expects to sell pricey jewelry, and he can’t even find a decently tailored suit. It’s appalling how poorly tailored it to him.”

 

“Agreed. I wouldn’t trust him to sell me a ring made of cubic zirconia and silver plating—much less something really expensive,” Galaxia said. “What can that man possibly know about style? He doesn’t even dress himself well.”

 

“And she?” Dedede asked.

 

Meta Knight grimaced. “His daughter Susie. She rubbed me the wrong way.”

 

“Considering the way she kept touching you, I’d say so. Oh, oh, _Meta Knight_! Aren’t you such a handsome man?” Galaxia asked, putting her fingertips to Meta Knight’s chest with exaggerated flirtatiousness. “It’s _so_ hard to find a good man these days.”

 

Meta Knight made a strange sort of noise—something between a groan and a whine.

 

“Yikes,” Dedede said.

 

Was it bad that he secretly loved that Meta Knight and Galaxia also had a bone to pick with Haltmann’s?

 

"But we can't be  _too_ harsh," Galaxia said. "Max Haltmann knows the district manager, unfortunately."

 

"I told you I would take the blame for anything," Meta Knight replied, "If it comes to that. I'm not going to sabotage your chances at becoming a manager."

 

Galaxia's smile was fond.

 

“Well, anyway, I’m gonna borrow your bathroom. And uh, if you’re interested, I restocked our popcorn,” Dedede said, rubbing the back of his neck.

 

Meta Knight loved that salty-sweet kettle corn, and once Dedede figured that out, he’d bought four boxes of it. Dedede’s mom had always said the best way to get a man was through his stomach, and while Meta Knight might’ve not been receptive to a four-course meal, Dedede was fairly certain he could win Meta Knight over with sugar and carbs.

 

“What bathroom?” Meta Knight asked innocently. “We don’t have a bathroom in my store.”

 

Dedede raised an eyebrow.

 

“Never have,” Meta Knight replied evenly.

 

“That’s right,” Galaxia said. “I wish we did.”

 

Dedede grinned. “You didn’t.”

 

Meta Knight shrugged. “I had no choice. My eyes were bleeding from the length of Haltmann’s tie; it went all the way to his crotch. Who _does_ that? We don’t want him in this store dressed like _that._ Someone might mistake him for one of us. On the off-chance anyone asks, the nearest bathroom is in the food court all the way on the opposite side of the store. So on the off chance someone asks...” he trailed off, smirking.

 

Dedede winked. “I guess they’ll be goin’ to the food court, eh, Mety Knight?”

 

“Exactly.”

 

* * *

 

 

Being free of school for break left Kirby Stellarum without his usual obligations and a set schedule, and without a set schedule, Kirby was very, very bored. There was only one thing he could do to find relief, and that was—of course—tormenting his dear, beloved brother who he hadn’t seen in months. Kirby skipped into the suit shop and immediately gravitated to the single pink item in the store—a petal pink sweater. Kirby unfolded it, held it at an arm’s length, observed it, and brought it against his chest.

 

Nice. It was almost the same pink as his hair. He could see himself wearing it.

 

“We don’t serve your kind here,” Meta Knight said from behind.

 

Kirby grinned and spun around. Although his brother wore a stony expression, Kirby knew Meta Knight was being entirely facetious. “But _Meta_! I need to buy a Saint Knight’s Day present!” Kirby exclaimed.

 

Meta Knight’s eyes crinkled just a little bit around their corners. “For your princeling?” he asked.

 

Kirby’s jaw dropped, and although Meta Knight’s face never changed from its mask of cool indifference, Kirby just _knew_ his brother was enjoying himself a little _too_ much. As if to add insult to injury, Meta Knight proceeded to lean around Kirby and straighten a pile of powder-blue sweaters.

 

Maybe Fluff would like one? Ice blue _was_ his favorite color.

 

“His name is Fluff,” Kirby said. “And who told you?”

 

“So that’s who I need to forward all my blackmail to,” Meta Knight replied, completely deadpan.

 

“Okay,” Kirby said, clapping his hands together, “But if you do that, I guess I’ll have to go visit your boyfriend with _my_ blackmail!”

 

“I don’t have a boyfriend.”

 

“That’s not what Dad said,” Kirby replied in a sing-song voice.

 

“That was a misunderstanding,” Meta Knight said. “Dedede is my ally. He’s not—”

 

“Dad said he was staring at your butt.”

 

Meta Knight dropped the sweater he was holding. Kirby grinned when he imagined the look that must be plastered across Meta Knight’s face. “He…our father did _not_ say that,” Meta Knight replied.

 

“But you _don’t_ contest Dedede might’ve been dededistracted by your…” Kirby trailed off. “Well, what would you call it, Mr. Formal?”

 

“It’s comments like that one that really make me wonder if we’re actually related,” Meta Knight said. “I’m half-convinced you’re really a street urchin that Father found in a cardboard box on the side of the road.”

 

“I’ll bet you think Dedede is dededelightful,” Kirby replied.

 

“Why do you hate me?”

 

“I don’t!” Kirby chirped. “I just think it’s funny that you finally found a guy you like, and it’s some guy in a video game store. You aren’t exactly the gamer type.”

 

“I hadn’t pegged you as being into yarn-boys either.”

 

Kirby flushed, and Meta Knight smirked.

 

“So when are you going to ask him out?” Kirby asked. “When are you going to _introduce me_? I like making new friends!”

 

As if Meta Knight didn’t know. All through high school, Kirby had made friends with absolutely everyone, while Meta Knight had been designated the role of his brother’s awkward chauffer. Meta Knight might’ve been jealous of Kirby’s social butterfly tendencies if Kirby, himself, hadn’t been _so_ eager to invite Meta Knight to _everything_.

 

“Well, if it keeps you out of my store…”

 

“No offense, Meta, but your store is boring. And there’s nothing pink except for one sweater. And nothing crocheted.” Kirby wrinkled his nose and toyed with the soft angora of a light blue sweater. “I need a back-up present in case I can’t finish mine in time. It’s so hard to get an even edge on a blanket! Why does Mr. Important Prince-Guy have to be an _artiste_?”

 

“You’re literally unbelievably talented in every art medium there is,” Meta Knight deadpanned.

 

“But you don’t understand! Crochet is my _archnemesis_! My greatest rival!” Kirby declared.

 

“I thought biology was your greatest rival.”

 

Kirby scrunched his face up.

 

“How many people did Father have to pay off to push you through?” Meta Knight asked, smirking.

 

“None! I studied very hard with… _Fluff_ ,” Kirby said, emitting a melodramatic sigh.

 

“If you’re going to pester someone, I’d suggest Haltmann’s,” Meta Knight replied, glaring across the mall at _his_ archnemesis.

 

“The jewelry store?” Kirby asked.

 

Meta Knight nodded. “I can’t stand them,” he said. “Not only did Dedede’s store get flooded when they moved in, but they have _terrible_ suits. I cannot believe how ill-fitting they are. The _only_ way I’d be caught wearing a suit that misshapen would be if I was dead.”

 

Kirby whistled between his teeth. “Strong feelings, huh?” he asked.

 

“Yeah,” Meta Knight replied.

 

Kirby clasped his hands behind his back and leaned forward. “I’ll pay them a visit,” he said, “ _After_ I visit Dedede.”

 

“No.”

 

When Meta Knight tried to grab him, Kirby skipped out of reach. “You can’t stop me! You can’t stop me!” Kirby chanted.

 

“You—” Meta Knight suddenly adopted a cheery smile. “Hello, Sir! What brings you in today?”

 

Kirby glanced over his shoulder. A customer. This meant that Kirby would be ignored for the next several minutes. Slowly, Kirby edged out of the store. At one point, Meta Knight looked around his customer and shot Kirby a death glare. Kirby grinned and quickened his pace, backing closer and closer to Dedede’s store.

 

Then, Kirby spun around and launched right into the game store. Although Kirby wasn’t much of a video game player, he knew enough to realize that an employee offering to sell him a Switch wasn’t going to switch him. It was a nice enough store, organized. Nothing that seemed to scream Prince Fluff, unfortunately.

 

Kirby sighed and looked at a display of plushies without really seeing them. The thought of Fluff filled Kirby’s stomach with warm fuzzies and butterflies. He was just so handsome. Regal. Funny.

 

“Hey! Welcome in! There’s somethin’ I can help you with?” a voice boomed.

 

Kirby grinned and whirled around. Behind him, there stood a tall, heavy-set man with dark hair. He wore a red shirt featuring Charmander and distressed blue jeans.

 

“Noooo,” Kirby said, dragging out the word. “I just thought I’d come to look around. You’re Dedede, right?”

 

“Yeah. How d’you know that?”

 

Kirby rocked back on his heels. “ _I_ ’m Meta Knight’s brother,” he said. “I just wanted to meet you. Meta Knight talks about you _all_ the time.”

 

He didn’t.

 

“He’s got a _huge_ crush on you,” Kirby added.

 

Sure, Meta Knight hadn’t said that, but Kirby could tell that his brother was head over heels in love.

 

“Not that he would own up to it,” Kirby said.

 

Dedede’s face had turned a very interesting shade of red.

 

“So if you like him, I’d confess first,” Kirby replied.

 

Smiling cheekily, Kirby went onto his tiptoes and patted Dedede’s cheek.

 

“What’re you—” Before Dedede could finish, Kirby sauntered from the game-shop.

 

Kirby glanced into the game-shop to see if his dear, beloved brother happened to be watching, but Meta Knight appeared to be absolutely absorbed in what his customer was saying. Ugh. How boring. But better Meta Knight than himself, Kirby decided.

 

 


End file.
